


Lucius Malfoy and the Chamber of Secrets.

by unlikely2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2014131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlikely2/pseuds/unlikely2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a far, desperate future, Lucius Malfoy will be sent back to change the past.<br/>Of course, he doesn't know that yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which our hero has a rough night and encounters a bean bag.

 

The bird shrieked and exploded.

Lucius Malfoy looked down at the mess on the grass, on his boots, on his trousers and shirt . . . on up to his elbow and then back down to his dripping wand.

Peacocks really were full of it.

At least this one had been before it had so unwisely decided to announce its presence. Lucius cursed quietly. The elves were bound to report the creature's untidy demise to Narcissa, his elegant, exquisite, lovely wife, who was also rather more ruthless, by several orders of magnitude, than a starved kneazle and wouldn't be at all happy.

 _Dammit but I need some decent sleep,_ he thought, wondering, somewhat blearily, how best to deal with this act of unintended butchery. There wasn't enough left of the thing for soup. _'I am a Malfoy:_ said the voice in his head, _'incriminate.'_

 _That might work,_ he thought, beginning to vanish the larger, meatier bits making the destruction appear more like the work of predatory wildlife. _Right now_ , he decided, a _change of clothing would be in order,_ before he, yet again, went through the family's increasingly straightened finances in a search for some small and previously unappreciated modicum of slack.

He really did not want to have to tell Narcissa.

The Malfoy name dated back many centuries, and there were still vineyards in France as well as a small, fortified farmhouse but the real money had been more recent and always rather less that was generally supposed. He'd been made uncomfortably aware that her family considered that she could do better and only the disgrace of her older sister's defection had eventually permitted their marriage. That, of course, and Bella making it publicly known that, because she couldn't bear to disappoint either Rudolphus or Rabastan, she was going to marry them both. 

She had been such a sweet girl. Once.

If he told his wife she would, of course, be charming and understanding. And then she would do something entirely insane in an effort to be helpful, before leaving him to sort it out. There had to be some loose change in Hogwarts but he was, despite the ongoing series of petrifactions and his own best efforts, as yet no closer to the purse strings than he had been at the beginning of the year. Lucius sat down, opened a ledger and allowed his mind to wander.

Briefly, he smiled. Brooms for the entire Quiddich team had been an excellent wheeze: his various creditors, witnessing this largess had been convinced once again of the security of their money, not guessing how little Lucius had actually paid.

Given the ridiculous size of the mark-up on the 'Two Thousand and One' and the fact that, once Slytherin had them, the three other teams were bound to follow suit, and that Lucius had been kind enough to point out this opportunity to the proprietor of Quality Quiddich Supplies, a substantial discounting of his own purchase was only to be expected. Blackmail had been entirely superfluous. He'd felt slightly ashamed of allowing habit to get the better of him.

Unfortunately, that had been months ago. While the humans were becoming more twitchy, the smiles on the Goblins only got wider. In retrospect, he had been stupid. His investments had turned out poorly and, while Arthur Weasley's incursions had been an excellent excuse for disposing of darker artefacts, he had precious few of those left and very little time left to come up with anything else. Leaning back, Lucius closed his eyes, not noticing as his breathing slowed and he drifted into sleep.

_Below, in the moonlight, a single remaining, blackened chimney stood above the snow like an accusing finger but the loss of the manor was an old, old pain. What was causing his heart to break within his chest was the soft breathing of the child within his arms whom he been unable to wake; who now would never awaken again. From a patch of shadow a single, black snowflake drifted slowly upwards followed by others, getting closer, quickly becoming humanoid. “Eighty two percent,” he said. A number on a screen._

_'It will have to do.' The woman voice was soft but clear over a low humming the cause of which wasn't evident. 'We do_ not _want to take them with us. Ready?'_

_'Ready.'_

_'Engage._

Lucius' eyes shot open: his ledgers; his study; his heart racing and breathing heavy. A sensation of utter horror enveloped him and he found himself shivering. He lurched to his feet and began striding back and forth. Over the last few weeks the nightmares, though unremembered, had become steadily worse. Now, for the first time, he had something coherent: Dementors, obviously, but the craft he'd been riding in was strange: unfamiliar and with a strong suggestion of muggle. He stopped and took a deep breath to steady himself.

 _Alegria,_ he thought. _The child's name had been Alegria,_ and she had been the last of his line. It had been just a dream but still it had possessed the power to create a scouring ache within him. He'd talk to Severus, except that Severus, of course, reported to Dumbledore.

 _What?_ he found himself asking himself. _Where did that come from? Why would Severus tell that saggy old encumbrance anything?_ He forced himself to look out at the sunlit lawns beyond the terrace and the rose garden: the real and the ordinary that suddenly felt like anything but.

There had to be a reason for such outlandish nightmares. If he really insisted, Severus would help him find it. Remembering the last time he had spoken with the Potions Master, Lucius winced. 'Most people when they're feeling under the weather, do not automatically assume that they have been cursed,' he'd been told in the most obnoxiously reasonable tone the younger wizard could contrive. 'Have you tried  _“Pepper-up_ ”?' 

A murmur and a crystal glass and a flask of brandy appeared at his elbow. As he poured, he noticed that his hand was shaking. He forced himself to sit down and re-address the problem of his finances.

 

'Hello darling,' said Narcissa.

As the witch bent over him and placed a soft kiss on his brow, Lucius breathed in her fragrance He caught her hand. 'I do love you,' he said.

She gazed at him.

He let go. 'I'm sorry. Bad dreams.' Lucius picked up his glass. Again, she looked but said nothing. 'How was your meeting?'

'Useful.'

Narcissa removed the golden combs from her hair, shaking it free over her perfect shoulders. 'Lucius, my love, they were all very polite, but it was my turn to host in April. If we'd a town house, I could invite them there. But as we don't . . ..' She, of course, thought he was just being needlessly stubborn. He really, really didn't want to tell her that the current 'refurbishing' had only continued as long as it had because he could not afford to get their furniture out of hock. She sighed. 'Well. Are you feeling any better?'

That he didn't reply was answer enough. She summoned a chair and sat down facing him. 'Tell me, exactly, what's wrong.'

'I have nightmares. They terrify me. But when I wake up I can't remember anything.'

'Oh,' said Narcissa, her grey eyes gazing into his, 'That sounds awful.'

'That's not all of it,' said Lucius, 'You know the voice in your head? The one that says”Shut up,” or “Now would be a good time to leave”?' She nodded. 'Or even “You look a right pillock in that”?'

Narcissa's eyes widened. 'It says that?'

'It says that.' _Obviously it didn't say things like that to her._ 'It's getting quite vocal. Chatty even. There are all these thoughts in my head and they're not mine.' He swallowed. 'I don't think they're mine.'

'Who _do_ you think they belong to?'

'I don't know but he's a sarcastic bastard.'

'Could it be some sort of haunting?' Narcissa paled. 'Possession?'

'Not according to the diagnostic spells I've tried.' He emptied the brandy with one swallow. 'And, darling, there's something else.'

She turned her gaze upon him: waited while Lucius courage took the fast train South.

It's not important,' he tried to smile, 'but I think we might have a fox.' He  _wasn't_ lying. Really, it would be most surprising if they hadn't.

'Really?'

'I found what was left of one of our peacocks.'  _After._ _No word of a lie._ 'I could have traps set.'

Narcissa got up got up and took his glass toward the decanter on his desk. Lucius sighed inaudibly as she refilled it. 'This and no more,' she said as she handed it to him before leaning in conspiratorially. 'Actually, I rather like foxes.'

Lucius smiled and waved the glass in a silent a toast to her. He took a long swallow and then choked.

'If it's any sort of possession, that should flush it out, said Narcissa.

_Not just brandy in the glass._

'Old family recipe, she continued. 'You don't want to finish that? No, perhaps not. I'll have the elves put you in the pale green guest room. That will be most convenient.' Lucius found that he couldn't draw breath. 'Don't worry, the vomiting is over very quickly.' Narcissa murmured something and Lucius found himself, abruptly, facing porcelain. Leaning over, he was violently sick.

By the time the spasms had finally subsided and he could vanish the bowl that he's been using, perforce, having had a different use for the toilet, he'd discovered what was so convenient about the pale green guest room: the bed was only a few (short) steps away from his current location. It was, he'd very soon realised, going to be a long night.

Long after dawn had incited its avian, dark-thoughts-inspiring frenzy in the shrubberies outside, Lucius dreamed.

_He dreamed of Greyback making little, playful snaps at Narcissa's throat, while Bellatrix's hems left wet, red streaks on marble stairs; of Draco's frightened, grey eyes, his only child grown almost to a man, still trusting his father to do_ something _. Endless, endless screaming from the cellars. Peter Pettigrew - Wormtail, sniggering at him from a corner whilst devouring an entire bird, like the rat that he was, with bare, greasy, mismatched hands._

_He dreamed of the Dark Lord's reptilian derision when, after everything else had been stolen, he took Lucius' wand and all that was left of his pride. Rage exploded. 'You can stop him,' urged the voice in his head that sounded so familiar. 'You can stop all of that._ ' Spinning towards it, he woke to a faceful of orange fur.

Lucius shrieked and leaped off the toilet. Something orange, furry and squashed looking was jammed against the sink still holding his imprint where he had been sleeping against it. With a sort of rustling, rushing sound, part of it slumped to the ground. Lucius took a deep breath and began tidying himself up.

'Dobby.' The elf appeared. 'What is that?'

'Dobby doesn't know, master. Shall Dobby punish himself?'

'No.' He stared at the creature, distinctly _remembering_ it declaring that Dobby was ' _a free elf',_ just before getting knifed by Bellatrix and the terrible loss of that most unusual of sensations: hope.

_Because Potter had been supposed to destroy the Dark Lord._

And then Dobby had taken Potter and his friends away, before _He_ could arrive - straight out through all the wards – which actually could explain how his wife had banished Lucius to the bathroom the previous evening: if that too had not been the the hallucinatory remains of a nightmare. It seemed to Lucius that there was something not quite right about the peacock and the potion. Even now, reality seemed a bit off. Considering the orange anomaly, he was tempted to pinch himself or, better, tell Dobby to pinch himself.

_'No,'_ said the voice in his head.

_That wouldn't work?_ thought Lucius.

_'No it wouldn't.'_ The voice sounded irritated.

The elf had stopped wringing his hands and now merely stood there looking confused. If he'd been entirely convinced that he was dreaming, Lucius would cheerfully have _'AK'_ ed the little beast.

Early in their marriage Narcissa had suggested that one of the elves be specifically assigned to Lucius and he, not yet knowing his new bride very well, had agreed without question. He was soon to discover not only did that mean that all the other elves answered to _her_ but also that, strangely enough, _his_ servant - Dobby - was the one that was a past master of obfuscation and fully paid up member of the awkward squad.

 _Ok, idiot. Try again_. 'Do you know where it came from?'

'No. Master.' Large head shaking so fast that Lucius thought the elf might hurt himself with his own ears.

'Do you know how it got here?'

No. Master.'

'Do you have any ideas?'

The elf stopped shaking his head, open-mouthed at being asked such a question. Meanwhile, enough of the amorphous, orange monstrosity had fallen into its lower region, the bit in the sink flipped over and the whole thing slumped forward. Dobby shrieked and leaped backwards; Lucius hit the furry intruder with a cutting curse. Immediately innumerable little white beads resembling hailstones began pouring out, spreading over the bathroom floor _Ok. Bad idea,_ thought Lucius.'Well,' he said, 'Get rid of it.'

The elf clicked his fingers and the orange fur disappeared with an explosion of tiny, white balls which were now sticking all over everything.

Including Lucius.

Dobby head butted the sink.

'Stop that.' He found himself restraining the little creature. 'Stop punishing yourself.' They both considered the snow-like layer. Lucius removed the beads adhering to his nose and chin. 'Just get rid of them. Right? But first run me a bath, not here – in my own bathroom and fetch me a pot of tea and . . .' But Dobby had already vanished.

It wasn't a problem. There would be various remedies in the cabinet behind the mirror, including one for hangovers.

Squinting vaguely at the ranks of little bottles, he found one the right colour, opened it, swallowed the contents and then waited while his headache continued unabated and his stomach churned in what he decided was a peculiarly mocking fashion.

Two things occurred to Lucius at this point: that there was definitely something something amiss with regard to his mental state and that, whatever it was that he'd taken, it hadn't been hangover remedy. Lucius opened one eye and attempted to decipher the label. _"Felix Felices.” Lovely._ The trouble being that luck borrowed had to be repaid, usually with interest and, in accordance with Finagle's corollary to the Sod-Murphy Law, at the worst possible time.

 _'Not if you pass it on.'_ And here was something new: a female voice talking in his head and sounding very like the woman from his nightmare.

 _Excuse me,_ 'he told it, _I don't believe we've met. My name is Lucius Abraxus Malfoy._ In the silence that followed Lucius undressed and fled the white invasion to his own rooms by means of apparition. 

The tea he found waiting was exactly to his taste and the temperature of the bath just right.

Perhaps, he consoled himself while soaking along with his tea and only four small, white beads, he'd confused Dobby by being reasonable and the elf was just doing things right for a change.

He couldn't help wondering what would happen if he did try to pass on his good fortune. As he was currently under the influence of  _'Felix Felices'_ his thought that staying at home and doing nothing would not prevent the accrual of the luck debt, merely waste an opportunity was probably right. He'd go and see Severus, he decided. His old friend could do with some good luck.

And then he'd to wonder when he'd last considered anyone, outside of family, as more than 'potentially useful'.

 

Narcissa glanced up from the dining table.

'Hello darling,' she said, brightly. 'I'd not expected to see you so early. Feeling better?' Lucius grunted and lowered his abused posterior onto a chair. 'If you can remember any of your dreams from last night, they might give us a clue as to who or what was responsible.

'The Dark Arse,' said Lucius.

Narcissa's eyes widened. 'The Dark Lord is gone,' she said carefully. 'How could he . . ..'

'Horcuxes,' interjected Lucius. 'Lots of Horcruxes. Oh and Peter Pettigrew, who is actually an animagus and is currently residing with the Weasleys as their pet rat Scabbers.'

Narcissa gave a thoroughly unladylike snort. 'Oh I wish. I do get so very tired of Mr. Weasley's little visits. What sort of employment is that for a Pureblood.'

'Would it be better if he wasn't?'

Narcissa looked thoughtful but any answer she might have made was interrupted by an elf announcing that Minister Fudge wanted to speak with Lucius Malfoy “whenever convenient” which, of course, meant right away. Reassured by the ' _Felix Felices,_ ' Lucius ordered kippers and poached eggs and toast.

He still had to wait ten minutes to be admitted to Fudge's office, only to discover the Minister of Magic pointing his wand up his own nose. Lucius coughed. While he knew spells for trimming nasal hairs  _he_ didn't use them in public. 

'Ah, Lucius. No problem I hope?'

'I was dining. I assumed that you would have said were it urgent?

'No, no. Not at all. Do sit down. Tea?'

'Thank you, no.' Lucius sat, lifted an ankle over his knee, and waited.

Fudge opened his mouth and shut it and opened it again. 'I'm on the fund raising committee for Saint Mungo's again.' He smiled, picked up a quill and dipped it into the inkwell. 'As we're hoping to do quite a bit better this year, shall we say a thousand?'

'No,' said Lucius.

Fudge appeared surprised. 'Two?' he suggested.

'No.'

'I beg your pardon?'

Now Fudge was astonished. For that matter, so was Lucius. He let the ' _Felix Felices'_ talk. 'On various occasions, every year, you take it upon yourself to promise financial assistance on my behalf and each and every time I ask you not to.'

'Yes, you do say that. Every time.' Fudge beamed. 'But you always pay up in the end.'

'Which clearly doesn't act as any sort of disincentive to your volunteering other people's money.' Lucius said, brushing invisible dust off his robes. 'It's not such a terribly large amount, Cornelius. I'm sure you'll have no difficulty funding it yourself.'

The idiot started rearranging papers. 'Mrs. Fudge is not low maintenance witch,'

Except that the problem was not the Minister of Magic's _wife._

'You have met Narcissa?' inquired Lucius. 'You should know that I have never, for a moment, regretted marrying her, or once thought of another witch, so I understand entirely but, alas, I cannot help you.

Fudge stared. The expression ' _bulldog chewing a wasp_ ' drifted through Lucius's mind. 'I would hate to have to tell them that someone had let me down.'

And there it was: something that sounded almost like a threat: one that suggested that Fudge was quite aware of the precarious state of his finances. And still he kept digging.

'Might I ask: have you been offered a seat on the Board of Saint Mungo's yet?' enquired Lucius.

'Well, no. Not yet.' _Make that several wasps._

'No. And it's been what? Ten years? Well, for myself, I intend trying something different this year and I strongly suggest that you do the same. And now, if there's nothing else?' Fudge looked constipated. Lucius saw himself out.

He found Narcissa on the terrace of Malfoy Manor holding a letter. 'This has just arrived for you,' she said. 'I've checked it. It's clean.'

Surreptitiously, Lucius tried two more spells - just a letter. He opened it.

_Dear mr Malfoy._

_I hav ritin to profeser Mcgononagal but seeing as she is doing the hedmarsters job on top of hers and wot is hapening at hogwarts I dont espect she has time to reed it so I am riting to you as chairman of the bored of governors._

_Most people dont no this but that Peter Petigroo hoo got a order of Merlin for geting kiled by Sirius Black was a rat animag. Wot is importint is I was heering that Ron Wesley hes in Grifindoor has got a rat with a finger mising and as you mite remember all that was fownd of Petigroo was his finger and I wish you wood look into it._

_Yors sinseerly_

_A frend._

Narcissa took the letter from his hand and considered it as though she had not, in fact, dictated and had it posted herself. 'Mr Weasley is always so very concerned about what we might have in the house,' she said, handing it back. 'Maybe you _should_ look into it. At least check up at the school.'

 _'Why not?'_ said the _'Felix Felices._ Lucius brushed a kiss across his wife's cheek.

He'd wanted to see Severus anyway.

 


	2. In which our hero isn't quite himself.

 

It was with an increasing sense of disorientation that Lucius made his way through the castle Where were all the children?

He remembered, what seemed an incredibly long time ago, sneaking the diary in amongst the Weasley girl's books with every expectation of it causing trouble for Dumbledore and her family once the salient facts emerged but, for the first time, he almost wished he hadn't.

The quiet school felt . . . wrong and it bothered him more than he would have thought possible. He concentrated on letting the _'Felix Felices'_ he had inadvertently ingested  locate Severus and eventually found him in rather fraught discussion with the Acting Headmistress. 'What's happening?' he enquired.

'Ginny Weasley is missing,' McGonagall replied. Lucius had never thought to see her look so defeated. She gestured and he took in the dripping, red letters on the wall.

_Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever._

Intellectually, Lucius felt irritated.

This was the posturing of a spiteful brat. He hadn't time for such ignorant and, frankly, boring histrionics. At the same time he felt, deep within himself, something unfolding and solidifying and then pressure building to the point of fracture until an explosion of previously unrecognised rage and determination flooded through him carrying away the broken pieces. 'Search for her,' he found himself growling. 'Use everything you have. Ghosts. Portraits. Get the house elves looking for her. Cupboards. Attics. The grounds. The child is somewhere.

They were staring at him.

'The last time this happened, a girl died?'

Yes,' said McGonagall quietly, 'Myrtle . . ..'

Moaning Myrtle?' McGonagall nodded. 'What did she say?

'Well, I . . .'

'Fine. I'll speak to her.'

Lucius Malfoy strode down the corridor, his mind a passenger in his body, but by now, entirely unconcerned. This dream wasn't remotely as awful as the last one he'd had although clearly it had that potential. After all, Draco was here. Merlin but what had he been thinking. Had he been thinking at all? He needed to rescue the girl and dispose of the incriminating diary.

Not necessarily in that order.

'Lucius?' Severus was beside him, looking uncertain.

For a moment, something like the ghost of a small child's breathing seemed to brush against his cheek. 'We'll find her.' Lucius slammed through the door into the girls' toilet and stopped dead.

In front of him, he had no doubt at all, lay the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

From the gap between the sinks emerged a voice that, as they listened, proposed abandoning the child and destroying the minds of his witnesses, all to further Lockhart's literary career.

While Lucius was still trying to process the sheer ineptitude of what his disbelieving ears were telling him, Snape had heard enough. He turned and dropped through the hole, disillusioning himself as he went, his shoes already silenced by default.

A short time later there came a crunching sound, _'like a body falling onto many tiny skeletons,'_ thought Lucius, just before an unexpected tug launched him head first into the gap. Given the state of the tunnel down which he found himself sliding, he could only be grateful that he was as quick as he was with a shield charm.

'Professor Snape?' It might have been the acoustics but the boys weren't sounding all that relieved to be rescued.

'I believe,' Severus could be heard saying. 'that amongst the abyssal plains of wilful, student idiocy, you have succeeded, finally, in plumbing new and unsuspected depths.'

Lucius cleared the pipe and decelerated though the ancient midden of the floor. Severus ignored him in favour of snarling 'Why did you not inform a teacher?' at Potter and Weasley.

The incoming wizard got to his (thankfully booted) feet. 'That was entirely unnecessary,' he said. 'I would have come down without your summoning me.

'We did tell a teacher.' Ronald Weasley indicated something in pastel coloured robes, breathing gently, amid the accumulated detritus.

Snape hit Lockhart with another stunner. 'A teacher, not . . ..'

'We need to find my sister, sir!

'Right.' The Potions Professor put Lucius in mind of a small thundercloud. 'You and Potter stay here . . ..'

'You need Harry to open doors. And I don't fancy being left here on my own with a basilisk roaming around!'

'A basilisk?' inquired Lucius, delicately.

Weasley swung to face him. 'Harry kept hearing something talking in the walls. He's a Parselmouth, so that suggested some sort of snake and a Basilisk petrifies its prey. Hermione worked it out weeks ago. We only just found her note.'

'Again, Potter?'said Snape. 'You heard voices in the walls and didn't think to tell anyone responsible?'

Weasley answered for him. 'Bad enough everyone thinking he's the Heir of Slytherin without them deciding he's nutters too.'

'Well,' said Lucius. 'I very much doubt that there is _anything_ capable of creeping up on your Potions Professor so I will ask him to bring up the rear. I will go ahead and you two will stay close and stay quiet. And pay attention. Understood?'

They were both nodding so he set off.

The door Potter opened revealed the famed and long sought after Chamber of Secrets and Lucius was congratulating himself on the opulence, scale, taste and detail of his dream's creation when Snape crept past him. With its carved stone, statues and pools of water, it was a pity but the actual Chamber was unlikely to be anything like as magnificent. He turned to the two boys. 'I want you two to remain here and stay out of sight,' he told them. 'Agreed?'

Weasley clearly didn't agree and was opening his mouth to say so when Potter grabbed him. 'Just say yes. There isn't time to ague.' Weasley was shoved into the wall. 'Now.'

'Ok,' muttered the boy, unhappily.

Lucius entered the chamber. At the far end he could see two figures: a red haired girl, curled up on the ground, and an older boy, standing idly over her. Disillusioned and stealthy, he had almost reached the pair, when he heard the approaching scream. 'Giiiiiinnyyy!'

Lucius was obliged to skip smartly aside as Ronald came hurtling by. Sliding to his knees, wand falling carelessly to the ground and bouncing away, the boy cradled his little sister in his arms.

The stranger, immediately bent and retrieved the wand. Smirking, he looked around, then his face fell. 'Where's Potter?' he demanded.

The Weasley boy ignored the question. 'What's wrong with her? Where's the basilisk?'

'It won't come until it's called.'

'What?'

'It won't come until I call it. Honestly,' the older boy considered the wand and then its owner, clearly impressed by neither. 'a sprat to catch a sprat.' He pointed the wand to a spot between its owners eyes which widened suddenly.

'Who are you?' quavered Ronald. 'What do you want?

My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle and I want, and I am going, to kill you.'

'I don't understand.'

The stranger let his wand hand drop. 'That is because you are not very bright. Let me explain. Your dear sister found a diary among her textbooks. My diary. Apparently unused. So, poor, lonely little Ginny started writing in it. And the diary wrote back to her.'

'No. She knows better . . ..

'' . . . than to trust anything when you don't know where it keeps its brain?' Apparently not. She's been doing exactly what I want for a while now. Not that she remembered. “Oh Tom, I'm so scared.” And the more scared she became, the more time she spent with my diary and the stronger I became. And none of you ever noticed. What a shame. Too busy with Quiddich and pranks and _important things_ to worry that your sweet little sister was going out of her mind. '

'Ginny.' The boy's head bent. Tears sparkled in the girl's red hair. Lucius realised that the diary was gone from its place beside her. _Bloody Snape!_

'Better say goodbye to her, Ronald, said Tom. 'She hasn't too much time left. Of course, neither do you. I, however, have all the time in the world. You should be honoured you know.' The boy raised the wand and wrote 'TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE' in letters of fire in the air. Riddle smiled as, at a gesture, the letters began rearranging themselves.

'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.'

Ron looked up at the older boy. 'Riddle's not a Pure-blood name,' he said as Lucius yelled: 'Destroy the diary! Kill it!'

Riddle rocked back, grimacing, and raised the wand. _'Avada ._. .,' he began. Lucius felt himself knocked aside, turning back he found his target screened by Potter; R iddle smiled, his stolen wand swung round to steady on the boy sprinting towards him, _' . . . Kedavra!_ With a green flash, the wand exploded and Riddle, who had until then appeared quite real, broke up and ceased to be and Harry Potter stopped running and fell.

'Cast nothing.' Snape, visible again, was turning Potter onto his back, fingers searching for something at the boy's throat. Then he placed one hand over the other on Potter's sternum and began a series of rapid compressions of the boy's chest. Blood welled from the child's forehead, masking the famous scar.

Lucius stared, his mind so over full of thoughts attempting to happen as to be almost blank. He watched until Snape rolled Potter, coughing weakly, onto his side. 'CPR. Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation: a Muggle technique to keep the blood oxygenated and moving,' the Potions Master explained, as he stood and turned towards the Weasley children. 'As long as the body remains viable, life can return to it. If its way isn't blocked by foreign magic.' As Ginny began to sob quietly, Severus cast a series of diagnostic charms. 'You are exhausted Miss Weasley. I believe that Madame Pomfrey will want to see you.'

Malfoy instincts kicked in. Lucius began to look around for the diary and found it, in one of the pools, bleeding ink from a hole created by the Goblin forged knife stuck through it: the same knife he had given his potions prodigy protégée on the occasion of his seventeenth birthday. He 'l _eviosa'_ d them both onto a dry area and pinning the injured book with his boot, retrieved the knife and pocketed it.

Diagnostic charms revealed a mass of broken spell work and ensured that the diary was no longer the danger it had been it had been as well as, _entirely coincidentally_ , hiding any earlier magical traces personally identifiable to Lucius Malfoy. He pocketed the book and went to hand Severus back his knife.

Ginny Weasley drew in a sharp breath.

She was staring at something over Lucius shoulder as was her brother. Tall shadows gave a fairly clear indication of what they were staring at and yet the children were still moving, the boy's arms tightening around his sister as he tried to pull her to her feet. There was hissing but also, to Lucius astonishment, understanding.

_'It's alright, I won't hurt you. I control it. I don't eat rocks, you know.'_

_'It's saying . . .,'_ began Potter, in Parseltongue.

_'She,'_ said the Basilisk. _'I am named Beatrix. Also, you should speak in English.'_

Potter got up and turned to face the reptile. Lucius found himself, through no intent of his own, turning to do the same. As he kept his mouth firmly shut, his chin rose higher and higher.

Potter hissed, focussed for a moment on his friends and, gazing at the floor, tried again. 'What about Myrtle?'

_'Riddle tricked me. He told me I obeyed him because, as Salazar's heir, he'd the right to command me. It felt nice. I didn't know it was “Imperius”.'_

Potter glanced at the Weasley boy before realising that seeking clarification from someone who wasn't a Parselmouth was pointless. The boy's hand, dragged over his face and came away bloody. 'A moment Potter..' Snape splashed something onto a clean handkerchief and placed it over the bleeding scar.

'Thanks.' Potter's bloody hand rose to hold the cloth in place.

_'He told me there was an enemy and I believed him and then discovered that I'd killed a child,'_ the snake continued miserably.  _'I'm here to protect the school, to protect the children. He laughed at me and sent me back to the Chamber. I couldn't get at him and it wasn't as if I could tell anyone. When I got back here, I found I was trapped. Fifty years I've waited, all alone, betrayed and so very hungry, knowing that he would return and hoping I would be the one to kill him._

_'And then he did return but in the body of an innocent. Not quite all there. And not nearly strong enough to control me. He was careful but I knew that eventually, in arrogance or anger, he'd slip and I would have my chance. Or so I believed.'_

'That's why everyone was only petrified?'

The basilisk laid her great length down upon the floor until her eyes were level with Potter's. _'Even the cat,'_ she said. _'Since Riddle blocked off the passage to the forest, fifty years ago, so I couldn't get out, I've been starving. I need to hunt. The tunnel must be repaired.'_ She swung her face towards Lucius. _'Who's he?'_

'She wants to know who you are . . . sir,' said Potter.

'I am Lucius Malfoy and I am Chairman of the Board of Governors.'

 _'And that ones a teacher?'_ hissed Beatrix, indicating Severus. Potter nodded. _'Excellent. Crone, Mother and Maiden. Hogwarts will help: a simple_ “Reparo,” _should do it, if you three cast together.'_

Potter blinked, and blinked again.'So you don't want to attack Muggleborns?' he asked.

_'Of course not! You've got it all wrong. You have to remember that, for Muggleborns, life was pretty grim back then but, even when they did understand what was being offered, which usually they didn't, often they didn't want to abandon their parents._

_'Salazar liked Muggles. Respected them. Would never have agreed to just taking their children away, even if they would have been much better off here. All of the Founders were convinced that they were doing the right thing so it got pretty nasty. I don't know who's idea it was. They agreed that Muggleborns would be given a choice, but Salazar would leave. They all thought he'd be back within the year._

_'Salazar never came back. No one knows why.'_

'But what about . . ..'

_'Potter, is it?'_

'Harry.'

_'What do you do when there isn't enough of something and you want more than your share?'_

'I don't know.'

 _'Think, Harry_.'

'You persuade others that they don't want any?'

_'And Salazar wasn't here,'_ said the basilisk,  _'so it was easy. They intended it as a sort of prank, I suspect. Years passed. Nobody knows what happened to Salazar but he never did return, and a stupid joke that he hated Muggleborns, became 'the truth'. If any of your friends are Slytherin, you might want to be careful how you tell them.'_

_Nonsense of course,_ thought Lucius, _What a weird dream._ Still his mind was busy processing information. _Harry Potter. Severus Snape. Albus Dumbledore. Tom Riddle._ Dammit! _Nymphadora Tonks. All extraordinary._

_All Half-bloods._

This required further investigation. A thought broke free of the tangled mass occupying most of Lucius intellectual capacity. _Snape destroyed the Dark Lord's Horcrux._

Then: _I told him to._

Potter was staring at his own shoes. 'She didn't intend to kill Myrtle,' he explained. 'Riddle tricked her and she's very upset about it. She's been trying to find a way to stop him but didn't want to hurt Ginny. That's why no-one died this time. She hasn't been able to hunt because Riddle blocked off the passage to the forest and she's starving. She wants us to fix the damage. She says _'Reparo,_ ' should do it, if we cast together because Hogwarts will help.'

The Potions Professor, while looking dubious wasn't saying anything; understandably, given the louring presence of Beatrix.

'She's welcome to those spiders,' said Ron.

'Spiders?' queried Severus, softly.

'Acromantula. In the Forbidden Forest.' Self preservation woke up. 'So I heard.'

'Or, on Hagrid's advice,' suggested Lucius, 'you followed the spiders. Doubtless, he intended well but you are neither half giants, nor yet adults. Those of us responsible for your well being would be obliged if you would remember this. Also, I thought we agreed that you would wait outside.'

'We agreed that you wanted us to wait outside,' said Weasley. Potter turned pink.

Lucius sighed. 'Mr. Weasley, wait here with your sister.' He turned to Harry, Which way?'

Trudging through the gloom after Potter, Lucius murmured: 'You destroyed the Dark Lord's Diary.'

'You told me to,' objected Snape.

'Because you're so bloody obedient! I don't think. Lucius turned, 'Severus, you can't trust Dumbledore.

'I should trust you?

'Right now I'm not sure that I trust me.' Snape looked at him. 'Things have been a bit strange recently.'

Ahead of them, Potter stopped walking. They had reached the blockage. 'Ready?' said Lucius.

 _'Reparo!'_ Three spells hit the sloping mass of mud and broken stone which wobbled like an unappealing jelly before shooting upwards with a rumbling and a _whump!_ in a reversed explosion. W _eird how_ real _the magic felt._

In the silence, distant daylight shone and water began to drip from the restored ceiling. _'Thank you,'_ sighed the snake before taking off in a blur of fast moving leather.

Swaying, still clutching the bloody cloth to his head, Harry Potter smiled a very young child's smile of simple delight and Lucius remembering, belatedly that the boy's heart had been restarted only a few minutes before, reached out to steady him. Potter flinched out of the way.

Anger flared. Hadn't they come down here to rescue the brat? Yet, despite this, as the child staggered off to join his friends, Lucius found himself saying quietly, and to his own surprise: 'Severus. What do you know of Potter's home life?'

'He's Griffindor's golden boy.'

'Indeed. What happened at the end of last year?'

'I'm sorry, Lucius, you'll have to explain.'

'With the philosopher's stone.'

Snape merely gave him a look of aggravated patience.

'So many points for Griffindor,' murmured Lucius. 'And both Weasley and Potter laid up in the hospital wing. And now another adventure this year. Once may be happen-stance . . ..'

'Potter doesn't have the faintest idea how to stay out of trouble.'

'So why not? Why does he so desperately need to play the hero? How is it that he has been, twice in as many years, indulged? Curious, wouldn't you say?'

Severus sneered but went after the boy. More diagnostic charms followed. 'Potter,' said Severus, 'You'll be seeing Madame Pomfrey along with Miss Weasley. On you go.' As the children trooped off he turned to Lucius and waited.

'Malnutrition,' murmured Severus. 'Not all that severe but long standing. It could be that he's a fussy eater. Some injuries, but, for an active child, especially one as lacking in foresight as Potter . . ..'

They followed after the children, the Chamber door closing behind them.

'Not all abuse is physical,' said Lucius and then he shook his head. 'I'm probably imagining it. I've not been sleeping well. Anyway, Professor McGonagall would . . ..' He stopped. He did not mention that she hadn't noticed what was happening to Ginny Weasley. 'Oh, and there's this.' He took Narcissa's letter from his pocket and handed it over.

'Ridiculous,' said Severus, handing it back.

'She got the diary from somewhere. Absurd as such a suggestion may seem, perhaps we should make sure that the Weasleys do not, in fact, have a rat animagus for a pet..'

'Lockhart's gone sir!'

'We can worry about him later,' said Severus.

Lucius drew his wand. After being hit by Snape's stunners there was no way he'd simply wandered off. 'So how do we get back up?'

'You have to ask for steps.'

Lucius turned to the girl. 'You remember?'

'Bits. I thought I was dreaming.'

She'd strangled roosters, Lucius recalled, feeling faintly ill, and written in their blood, including the horrible message he'd seen earlier.

'We need steps,' hissed Potter.

A single step appeared; Lucius put both feet on it and was borne upwards, others forming below and behind it. As the pipe steepened, the stairs shifted sideways and extended further from the tunnel wall before spiralling up the last, vertical section. He arrived at the opening through the sinks and stepped off. The Headmistress was waiting in the bathroom. 'The elves reported . . .,' she began and stopped. 'Is she . . .?'

Lucius smiled at her. 'We were lucky.' The Weasley children stumbled into the bathroom with their arms locked around each other. Shortly after, Potter followed. Once Severus had emerged, the sink rearranged itself, closing off the entrance. 'That suggests that Lockhart is no longer down there,' said Lucius.

'Professor Lockhart? What was he . . ..'

'He was going to abandon Ginny in the Chamber and _obliviate_ us and say that we lost our minds when we saw her body,' interrupted Ronald.

McGonagall stared at him.

Lucius opened the door to the corridor. 'Lockhart will be found and dealt with,' he reassured the children. 'Right now, I am concerned that you, Miss Weasley and you, Mr. Potter be seen by Madame Pomfrey as soon as possible.'

'Yes, of course,' agreed McGonagall. 'On you go, children.'

Lucius let go of the door, fell into step beside the Headmistress and handed her the letter.

'Ridiculous,' said McGonagall..

'Miss Weasley was the victim of a cursed object that she found amongst her things. I'm sure that her parents will be interested in determining just how she came by it. So, if only to rule out such a suggestion . . ..'

'Very well,' said McGonagall. 'Mr. Weasley, you have a pet rat with a toe missing?'

Ronald dropped back. 'Yeah. Scabbers.'

'How long have you had it?'

'Since I started Hogwarts.'

McGonagall gave Lucius a look. 'It's not any special sort of rat is it?' she inquired.

'Naa. He's just a rat. Really quite boring.'

Running footsteps heralded the arrival of three more Weasleys and the group stopped. 'What happened to staying in your common room,' demanded McGonagall. 'Never mind. As you can see, your sister is safe.'

Lucius wasn't letting go. 'Where did you get the rat from, Mr. Weasley?' he asked.

'He used to belong to Percy.'

'So, how long has your family had Scabbers?'

'Dunno. We've always had him.'

'Percy,' said McGonagall. How long has your family had Scabbers?'

'Must be around ten years.' The oldest boy looked slightly embarrassed. 'He's just a rat. He's quite boring.' Snape stiffened almost imperceptibly and McGonagall's eyes narrowed.

'Where did you get him from?'

'I found him in the garden.'

'And your parents let you keep him?'

Mum didn't want to at first so I hid him in Dad's shed. When Dad saw I could take care of Scabbers he must have had a word with her. She changed her mind.'

 _Or had her mind changed for her,_ thought Lucius.

'I see,' said McGonagall. Percy, your parents are expected. I'd like you to go down to the gates and meet them. Fred and George, escort your sister and Mr. Potter to the hospital wing and wait there. Tell Madame Pomfrey that I want her to examine both of them. Ronald, where is Scabbers now?'

'In the dorm. Probably sleeping.'

'I'd like to take a look at him. Now, if you don't mind.'

'Of course not.' Ronald sounded puzzled. 'He's just a rat, though.'

 

 

 

 


	3. In which our hero unleashes his inner thespian.

Flat on its back, half swallowed by the fluffy pillow, very little could be seen of the rat. A hairless tail draped down over the sheets and four little paws and a nose stuck up from white linen. From this viewpoint, it was almost cute. McGonagall extended her wand.

There was a solid sounding thump as the expanding animagus collided with the top of the bed. Mumbling curses, still glowing slightly, Peter Pettigrew sat up, mutilated hand clutching balding pate.

'Well!' said McGonagall.

Pettigrew looked up at her, looked at all of them and then flung himself forward, reverting as he did so: a rat dropped down behind the hangings and fled under the bed. _I suppose,_ thought Lucius, _he did hit his head rather hard._ In a moment McGonagall had changed into her own animagus form and a silver-tabby cat gave chase.

Lucius had drawn his wand but the _'Felix Felices'_ was suggesting, quite forcefully, that he didn't interfere. The rodent, closely pursued, shot from under the bed and out through the door. Severus and Lucius collided and were momentarily jammed together in the doorway, just as the terrified squealing stopped.

Ronald Weasley, who had remained in the stairwell, lunged into the doorway opposite. On the landing at the bottom of the flight of stairs, Professor McGonagall rose to her human hight. Halfway down lay something that resembled an old cushion, awkwardly attached to a recognisable, if rather shrunken, human head. It had a long, worm-like tail and little human feet and was, quite clearly, dead.

An expression of apparent serenity on his face, Severus ghosted down the stairs, conjured a large specimen jar and levitated Pettigrew's mortal remains, head first, into it before turning towards the light, the better to examine his acquisition. Weasley came out of the bathroom, glanced at the jar and ducked back in again.

'Professor Snape, you are _not_ going to carry _that_ through the Griffindor common room.' McGonagall gestured and the glass jar became a small wooden box. Snape scowled at her and then continued down the stairs quite casually, tucking the box under his arm as he went.

'He . . ..' said Weasley, emerging. 'I . . ..'' He turned back toward the bathroom.

'Madame Pomfrey will have something for that,' said Lucius, surreptitiously casting a cheering charm.

'But . . .'

'Come along.' He propelled Weasley gently towards the stairs and received a shocked look before acquiescence. Indeed, the boy fairly sped away.

Lucius descended. 'I think it would be advisable to have all of the Weasley's things, Potter's too if he was staying with them, brought up to the hospital wing where they can be isolated and gone through thoroughly. Hopefully, we won't find anything else like that damned diary.

McGonagall continued to stare at the spot where the animagus had met his end. 'You could not have afforded to let him reach the common room,' Lucius reassured her. 'Given what happened the last time Pettigrew was brought to bay.'

'If Sirius Black didn't kill him . . . '

'What really happened that day? Did Black betray the Potters? I, for one, always found it difficult to believe that he would do such a thing. Not willingly. And now that I come to think about it, do you recall anything at all about a trial? I don't.'

'Impossible!' She had become very, very pale.

'Is it?' Lucius mimed thoughtfulness. 'You may well be unaware of this: the Ministry likes to bury its mistakes. I would ask you . . .. May I suggest that it might be better _not_ to inform them just yet. Not, at least, until measures can be put in place to prevent "accidents".'

The Scotswoman rallied. 'And why, Lucius Malfoy, would you care if he wasn't a Death Eater?'

'I admit that I made a most grievous mistake,' said Lucius. 'It is one, however, that I'm doing my utmost to set right. If you would excuse me?'

'Tippy!' Behind him McGonagal's instructions faded. He caught up with her just outside the hospital doors.

 

Inside they found assembled Potter, the Weasleys, Snape, still holding onto his box, and Madame Pomfrey who was pouring what looked like a calming draught which she handed to Ronald who swallowed it immediately.

'Professor McGonagall,' began Arthur, 'I'm afraid that Ron isn't making too much sense. What's the problem with Scabbers? We know he's not an owl, a cat or a toad but many children have unusual pets and Scabbers is just a rat. Nothing special. Quite boring if I have to be honest, '

'Professor Snape?' said McGonagall.

Snape laid the box down on a summoned side table and opened it. 'An animagus?' said Arthur. The red haired family had been pale. Now they were all shades of green and none of them really went. Percy dashed away towards the toilets. Mrs. Weasley hugged her little girl.'

'Am I going to be expelled,' whispered Ginny.

'Miss Weasley . . .,' began McGonagall.

'No,' said Lucius. 'No, of course not. You are not to blame. You are a child. This is a school. You should have been safe here. That you were not is something that I shall be taking up with the Board of Governors.'

'Mr. Malfoy . . .,'

Weasley didn't trust him? _Right._ 'Neither can I, in fairness, blame Professor McGonagall although, were she doing her job properly, as Head of House, she should certainly have noticed that something was amiss.

McGonagall stiffened.

'Of course, she couldn't possibly hope to do that as she is, in addition, attempting to perform the duties of Deputy Headmistress which, I am fairly sure, is contrary to our By-laws.

'I have a dispensation.'

'Permanent?'

McGonagall's chin came up.

'So, in addition to teaching 'Transfiguration' which is a full time position, you are also 'Head of House' and 'Deputy Headmistress' which works well because Professor Dumbledore has no other commitments and is always available to assist you.'

'It was you who had Professor Dumbledore removed.'

'Yes it was,' said Lucius. 'I want some-one in the position who won't treat it as a hobby. I do not want anything like this ever to happen again. Our children deserve better.'

Lucius could see that Weasley still wasn't going for it. _Not surprising_. 'One of your children is employed by Gringott's as a Curse Breaker? ' he suggested.

A reluctant nod.

'Good. Because I require an expert assessment of this.' Lucius dropped the diary at the foot of the girl's bed. As one, her family flinched away. 'I really hope that I am wrong about this,' said Lucius, 'but I am very much afraid that I am not. I need names. People who can be trusted to attend to this both quietly and quickly.'

'Bill's in London,' supplied Mrs. Weasley.'

'Is he? Can he come here right away? Hogwarts will cover any applicable fees.'

'It might take an hour or so . . ..'

'Or it might not. Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, will you open the flue to Saint Mungo's?'

'We could,' said Pomfrey dubiously. The dedicated flue was in place to allow emergency transfer of patients either from the school or to it, should evacuation ever become necessary. ' They won't like you just passing through.'

'I'll talk to them. We need to know that that thing's been stopped. Saint Mungo's has people who work with the Aurory. I want them to check on Miss Weasley. That book possessed her, was draining the life out of her and damned near gave us back . . ..'

Lucius drew his wand. In mid air, 'TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE' became 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.'

Ginny gave a small scream and tried to bury herself in her mother's arms. Lucius showed them the name embossed on the diary. When the clamour had died down, he turned to the girl. _Ginevra._ 'I am sorry to say, Miss Weasley, that older, wiser people that you have been taken in by Tom Riddle.'

 

Scarcely a minute later found Lucius and the Weasley Paterfamilias in London. The door to the reception area swung open. 'Poppy! What's the problem?' Arthur Weasley took one look at the Mediwitch's souring expression and apparated out leaving Lucius to face, if not the music, something possibly even less welcome.

'You're looking well, Andromeda.'

'Malfoy. I do hope you have a good reason for being here.'

'I'm not dying, if that's what you mean.'

Andromeda's wand was pointing between his eyes. He decided to go with the _'Felix Felices.'_

'We found what was causing the petrifications at Hogwarts. Part of the school's defence system was activated by one of the first year Griffies under the influence of a cursed article. One which was also draining her in order to reincorporate its previous owner. I don't think I can tell you any more right now.

The wand hadn't moved.

'Right now,' Lucius continued, 'we have to be sure that the object in question has been neutralised. Mr. Weasley is fetching a curse breaker from Gringott's. As Head of the Board of Governors I'm here to request that the specialist team who assist the Aurory be available to attend the child. In fact, all of the children. The family's pet rat was, in fact, an animagus. Several members of the family show signs of their minds being magically tampered with. " _Confundus"_ at the very least. Possibly, " _Imperius".'_ Frankly, the whole thing is a mess.'

'And why would Lucius Malfoy be so concerned?'

'Because this should have been picked up earlier. I allowed my own problems with Dumbledore to get in the way of my duty of care towards the children of the school. Including my own son.

Andromeda looked at him.

'The animagus was Peter Pettigrew.'

'Could you repeat that?'

'The animagus was Peter Pettigrew. Far more likely that he'd be the one working for You-Know-Who than your cousin Sirius.'

'To whom did the cursed object previously belong, Lucius.?'

Lucius swallowed before realising that she had no reason to suspect and the answer was "the Dark Lord" not "Lucius Malfoy". Even so, Andromeda Tonks, nee Black was paling in a manner he could distinctly remember and he found himself shuffling sideways just as light flared green from behind him and the person exiting the Ministry flue sent him sprawling.

'Whoops! Sorry.' His assailant had Auror Trainee robes, a quite lovely, heart-shaped face, pink hair and the ears of a donkey. '

 _Nymphadora Tonks._ For a moment out of time, Lucius saw her, lying, very still, on the floor of Hogwarts' great hall. ' _How do we tell Andromeda?'_

He felt woozy, sick and weary to his very bones, ' _No. She's alive. She will stay alive.'_ 'Andromeda,' he began, still on his knees. _If you apologise,_ he told himself, _she'll not believe a word you have to say._

Ignoring him, Andromeda turned to her daughter. 'What is it this time?' She asked tiredly.

Nymphadora tugged at one of the ears. 'Potion. A "prank". I can't shift them. And, as usual, the Ministry people won't touch it.'

'Right.' Andromeda turned to address Lucius. 'Am I to believe that you have turned against your so-called Dark Lord?'

'Yes.' He started to get up.

'Will you swear to that?'

Lucius got to his feet slowly. 'Yes?'

While the form of the oath was being agreed, the crack of apparition announced the Weasleys' return from Gringotts, accompanied by a pair of mail and leather clad goblins.. 'Bill,' said Andromeda, you and your colleagues should go on through. Arthur, I'd like you to act as binder for an unbreakable oath.

'Oh?'

By the time Lucius had sworn that he renounced Tom Riddle (also known as You-Know-Who), and all his works; bore no malice or intent of harm towards Andromeda or her family and finally that he was, in fact who he claimed to be, the Weasley was looking almost cheerful.

'Arthur,' Andromeda said , 'if you're agreeable, I'll ask the team to attend your family unofficially. I think the fewer who know about this, the better.'

'Team?' Light dawned. 'Oh. Thank you, that's thoughtful Thank you. Now I think I'd better . . ..'

'Say hello to Molly for me.'

A twisted smile and Weasley departed.

'So, supper one evening,' Lucius suggested.

'Absolutely,' replied Andromeda. 'There's this really nice little curry house. You can be our guests.'

'Muggle?'

'Of course.'

 _'Actually',_ announced the voice in his head, ' _I could murder a curry.'_ With a somewhat fixed smile, Lucius took his leave.

 

Back at Hogwarts, despite the empty glasses indicating that they had all been dosed with calming draught, Molly Weasley was upset. Extremely loudly.

'I SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT I AM UP TO NO GOOD?'

While most of the family looked as though they were caught out in a storm, the twins were cowering. The goblins watched, fascinated.

'Would someone care to explain?' suggested Lucius.

'That would be the password for a magical object,' said Severus, in far too bland a tone. 'To whit: a map. Of Hogwarts. Showing the names and locations of everyone in it. Created apparently, by Messrs Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and . . . Wormtail.'

Molly drew a deep breath.

'If I may?' Severus continued, more loudly. 'A wizard, who has been pretending to be dead, has had the run of your home whilst you were asleep. Various among you have, independently, volunteered the information that Scabbers was "just a rat" and "boring". This suggests to me that there has been . . . how best shall I put it? . . . _interference_. And this has been going on for more than ten years.

'We should, perhaps, continue our search?'

Ron's trunk revealed worn and greying clothes but nothing exceptional. 'My wand . . .' began the youngest Weasley boy.

'I'll try to see that it's returned to you,' said Lucius.

'It's wrecked.'

'It won't function. It is still the wand that took down a Dark Lord.'

The boy looked surprised and then his shoulders went back. 'I'd forgotten about that.'

'I'd be happy to make you an offer for it.'

'Think I might keep it, thank you.'

Lucius envied the resilience of the young. 'You won't be able to talk about what happened. The . . . creature is a part of Hogwarts' defences. One that would be compromised by common knowledge.'

Ron deflated slightly. 'Even so.'

'Think about it.' They moved on to Potters trunk. Lucius eyed the contents as each item in it was removed and checked by an increasingly puzzled looking team of Curse Breakers 'Well?'

'Some items are affected more than others,' Bill said, 'but everything's been in contact with _something_. It's not here now and we've no idea what it might have been. Harry are you missing anything?

'Don't think so.' Lifting his fringe to reveal unblemished skin, he grinned at Snape. 'Except the scar. Dittany. Wish I'd asked before.'

'If I might have a word, Mr. Weasley?' Most of the humans in the room turned to face Lucius

''I would say "Call me Bill." If you weren't Lucius Malfoy.'

'A word.'

Wooden faced, Bill followed him down the ward and waited while Lucius cast _'Muffliato'._ 'What can you tell me regarding the diary?'

'An extremely dark magical relic.'

'You know what it was?'

'We believe so.'

'Relic? In the strict sense of the word?' Bill nodded carefully. 'Could young Potter have been employed in a similar way? I refer to his scar.'

'What?' Weasley looked towards the Boy- Who- Lived, then his expression hardened. 'Perhaps you should explain.'

'Down in the Chamber the shade of Tom Riddle attempted to 'Avada Kedavra' him. The wand exploded but Potters heart stopped and, rather curiously, the wound reopened. Professor Snape used a Muggle technique to to keep his blood moving mechanically until, eventually, he revived.'

The Curse Breaker was looking at Potter and his expression was leaning towards one of dismay, if not disgust. Lucius discovered that he was furious.

'Professor Snape described it as a way of keeping the body habitable until life could return to it. If not blocked by foreign magic. Muggles, non-magical human beings, invented the technique and use it sufficiently often for it to possess an acronym. C. P. R.. Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation. It's not dark. It's not even magical. That _child_ went into the Chamber believing that there was a _monster_ there to rescue _your_ sister. Don't you even begin to think . . . .'

'I get it,' said Bill. 'I do. Yes.' He took a deep breath. 'That could explain the disposition of readings but given the strength of the diary, I would expect to pick up more from Potter himself.'

'There were other . . . objects. I think one of them may be located in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault at Gringotts.'

The Curse Breaker froze. 'You knew?'

'No, I did not know,' spat Lucius. 'I heard something but who, in their right minds would believe such a thing? Who'd believe any one could be so entirely bloody stupid?'

'Right, said Bill. 'You're right. Dammit. How many?'

'Six plus one remaining: presumably destroyed.'

'So, if you're right, three down of six. _Rockfall._ Seven. Dammit. I suppose that would be why the rat waited for my little sister: the seventh child.'

 _Gobblydook as well as Parseltongue?_ Lucius asked himself _. 'Counting to ten and some profanity'_ said the voice in his head. He broke the _'Muffliato'_ and turned to where the Boy-Who-Lived was busy feeling defensive about his underwear.

'Wait,' muttered Bill. 'You saved Ginny. You and Professor Snape.'

'He is a teacher and I am Chairman of the Board of Governors. I cannot help but feel that we . . . should have done better. Saint Mungo's will be contacting you regarding any lingering effects. Their specialists usually deal with the Aurory but given the circumstances . . .. Do not allow pride to get in the way of proper treatment. It's something that's owed. I expect this to be done unofficially. If not, the cost is for the school. Should information get out, your family will not suffer blame alone.'

As Lucius reached the others, Bill had one more thing to say: 'All this because you discovered that Tom Riddle wasn't a pureblood?'

Lucius grimaced. 'No.' They were all staring _. "Show time!" s_ aid the voice in his head.

'My father, Abraxus, undoubtedly knew about Riddle. But then he died. Quite young. And so very _conveniently_. For the Dark Arse.

'On the day of his funeral, that _filth_ sat in my father's place at table and explained a neat little trick he had with _"Imperius"_. Did you know that the curse can be applied a bit at a time so that with a judicious amount of _obliviation_ , behaviour, even thinking can be twisted gradually? The mind is quite terrifyingly adept at justifying past actions. Little by little, the victim can be warped into the desired shape. Tom Riddle's bloody topiary is what we were. No one did a damned thing to stop him.

'Not Dumbledore. Certainly not Slytherin's Head of House.

'For the rich and well connected, recommendations to comfortable, well paying positions. For the poor and clever the opportunity to work themselves into the ground and have that work stolen. Did you think Belby invented the _"Wolfsbane"_ potion? He didn't. He wasn't even in Europe at the time.

'All this in a House noted for its ambition and flexibility with regard to the rules. What did Slughorn imagine would happen?' I wish that I could say that I didn't take advantage of the situation. I can't.

Still, we were used. And I _will_ have revenge. I don't know how I should feel about . . . children who are "Muggleborn" . . . and others _,_ but I do know that I will do whatever I have to to protect and preserve my family . . . the _rest_ of my family.'

The Weasleys were wide-eyed. The goblins looked as though they might applaud 'Enough,' said Lucius, running his hand up his forehead and over his hair. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. 'Are such garments . . . _fashionable_ in the Muggle world, Mr. Potter?'

'No.'

'So, then. Are your guardian's very badly off?'

Potter's head went down. His arms wrapped around himself. 'No,'

'Then, please, explain.'

'My relatives don't like magic, Mr. Malfoy.'

'I see,' said Lucius. 'How do they like you?'

'Not much,' muttered Potter at the same time as one of the twins interjected: 'They put bars on his window!'

'They were starving him!' added the other.

McGonagall's hand had gone to her mouth. Lucius exchanged glances with Snape.

'Relatives?' enquired Severus. 'Petunia?'

'You know my Aunt Petunia?'

'I did. An unpleasant person.'

'She's not changed much.'

Bill Weasley pulled something out of the trunk with which Lucius would not have permitted an elf to wash down the dungeon.

'Mr. Potter,' said Lucius. 'At your Aunt's house, who does the cleaning?'

'I do.'

'Cooking? Gardening?'

'Me. I do it all, right?'

'Mr. Potter . . .,' began McGonagall.

'You knew,' said Potter. 'How could you not have known? My Hogwarts Letter was sent to "the Cupboard Under the Stairs"!'

'I think I might have noticed that,' said McGonagal, 'when we'd to send you so many . . . '

'They moved me into Dudley's second bedroom after the first one arrived.'

In the silence that followed, Lucius removed a small notepad from his pocket. 'Where does your aunt live, Mr. Potter?'

In Little Whinging in Surrey. The address is . . .'

'Say no more, Harry.' Dumbledore had arrived and his eyes weren't twinkling at all.

'Number four . . .,' began Harry before stopping, looking first panicked, then betrayed, at his sudden inability to speak.

'Mr. Malfoy, you are no longer a Governor of this school. You should leave.' Lucius opened his mouth. 'I said leave.'

The Elder Wand was in the Headmaster's hand. Lucius took the flue. _Elder Wand?_ he demanded of himself as he spun towards Saint Mungo's. _That really takes the biscuit. Next there will be white rabbits._ He wasn't going to swallow a damned thing Narcissa gave him from now on.

 

'Lucius,' said Andromeda. 'There _was no_ trial.' Lucius flinched, but still it continued. Why had he not taken dreamless sleep? ''There can be no doubt at all that it was, in fact, Peter Pettigrew?'

'No. McGonagall recognised him. So. I think, did Snape. We've the body, mid-change. The head is human, if a bit shrunken. The evidence is fairly conclusive.'

'It's a just a pity she killed him. It would have been helpful . . . '

' . . . if we could have questioned him? The rat's behaviour with regard to the Weasleys was pretty damning. I don't imagine he was registered as an animagus?'

'He wasn't.'

'Your source is reliable?'

'Since the Ministry handed my daughter's treatment to Saint Mungo's, I took her off active duty. She's been pursuing her studies in Records. Sirius was arrested and detained. And that was it. There never was any investigation, all the witnesses were _obliviated._ No reason to believe he's anything other than innocent and definitely no trial.

Lucius winced. 'And neither will there be one . . .' he said.

' . . . unless we are very clever.'

There was silence.

'I missed you,' said Andromeda.

'And I you. That your child has proven to be so exceptional has been, strangely enough, an odd sort of comfort.' He sighed. 'I've been a bloody fool.'

'Yes, Lucius, you have. What are we going to do about Sirius?'

'Suppose,' said Lucius, 'you were to attempt to buy the Black property in London for, let's say, seventy Galleons.'

'Sounds more like something you would do.'

'True. So, having gotten wind of it . . . .'

'Naturally,' said Andromeda, 'I would try to have Sirius transferred to Saint Mungo's for psychiatric evaluation. Can't have my rotten brother in law thieving the inheritance.'

'Fudge is so used to taking the credit for other people's ideas, he no longer remembers they weren't his in the first place. Although having paid a pittance for the the house, I'd not put it beyond him to confiscate the money. He's likely to facilitate a requested transfer to London. He won't want to visit Azkaban.'

'Yes,' said Andromeda. 'But how do we ensure that Sirius gets to Saint Mungo's? I'm not sure how much I can do if he's stuck in the Ministry.'

'He needs to be awake to sign a contract. Perhaps some sort of contact potion . . .'

'Or,' said Alastair Moody, removing his invisibility cloak, 'we could just send some reliable people in to get him. Nymphadora should learn that, when doing something you don't want to get caught at, the trick is to look bored. Not shifty.

'Oh and by " _reliable",_ I don't mean you.' Red light spun toward Lucius and there wasn't time.


	4. Chapter 4

Lucius awoke.

Merlin, what a nightmare. Trying to make nice with the Weasleys? He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 'Tea.' A silver salver appeared on a stand beside the bed with on it, a steaming pot of tea, a small jug of milk and a mug.

 _A mug?_ thought Lucius. But, of course, Narcissa didn't like the Black Keep and didn't care what was in it. More to the point: what was he doing here?

'Dobby.' The elf appeared. 'What am I doing here.'

The elf's face blanked for a moment as it consulted whatever arcane magics elves used to keep track of people. 'Mistress Andromeda brought you?'

' _We_ own this place. Not her.'

'Mistress Andromeda was born a Black.'

_And therefore the notoriously tricky Black Keep wards let her in._

'Does Narcissa know I'm here?'

'Dobby thinks not.'

'Please tell her that I am here and will be returning shortly.' Dobby vanished.

 _Please?_ thought Lucius, scandalised. _For a house elf?_

 

Still drinking his tea, he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. 'Lucius? demanded Narcissa, as she threw open the bedroom door. 'What on Earth is going on? Three different spells hit him in rapid succession. Are you alright?

Lucius _didn't_ spill his tea. He wondered how long he'd been out of it. Madeye had never been one to pull his curses 'What's been happening?'

‘That's what I want to know. Why have we been assigned Aurors "for our own protection"? What have you been doing?'

'Not me!' objected Lucius, getting up and heading for the door. 'Severus was the one performing all the heroics.'

'This is about that cleansing draught, isn't it? Narcissa followed him out of the bedroom. 'What were you doing _here_?'

'Andromeda brought me.'

'Ah.'

'You've been meeting with her here behind my back.'

'I have not.' Narcissa met his gaze for a moment then, pink suffusing her cheeks, turned away. 'A couple of times. She's my sister. I needed to know that she'd somewhere safe to go.'

 _Oh nicely done_ , thought Lucius. However many years of marriage and she was still trying to wrap him around her little finger. 'At least you had some use of the place.'

His wife's expression darkened.

Lucius took a deep breath. 'When I bought this place for you as a wedding present, when dear, sweet, old Cassiopeia sold it to me, I didn't realise that "entirely habitable if not quite the style" meant that your great grandfather Cygnus had had it reconstructed for the benefit of his Muggle mistress and her theatrical friends. Auntie had hidden all the Muggle stuff. I just thought it a bit unconventional.’

Narcissa's jaw clenched.

'I'm sorry. I thought you would find it amusing.' Lucius glanced at the pale opulence surrounding them. This floor held a library, a dining room and various bedrooms, all giving onto a very large lounge with a wall of south facing glass doors leading out onto a viewing platform that stretched right around the outside of the structure.

Marble stairs and glass and steel lifts accessed the roof top solarium with its tropical gardens and the glass bottomed swimming pool that passed light through to the lounge. Below were more bedrooms, a gymnasium, a games room and a theatre/cinema all supplied with electricity from a trio of massive, magically driven generators hidden in the dungeon. Lucius had no idea how the Muggle stuff had worked but, while he could do without the theatre and games room, he'd rather liked the upper levels. Narcissa, unfortunately, thought it all too vulgar for words.

Not that she didn't have a point.

Bellatrix, with her usual tact, had called it "a mad man's muggle-loving love shack" and giggled, before going skinny dipping with Rabastan and Rudolphus in the pool.

" _Skinny dipping?"_

He wondered when he might have come across such a distasteful expression and, out it slid, from behind his occlumantic barriers, like some eldrich abomination requiring only a thought to manifest itself. As quickly as possible, Lucius stuffed that particular image (as viewed from below) back into one of the deeper holes in his subconscious. At least Bellatrix infatuation with Dark Lord had put an end to all that.

Narcissa lost the argument with herself. 'It would be different if you'd allow me to remodel. It's not as if we couldn't afford . . .' She trailed off. 'Why has William Weasley been fire calling you concerning "Gringotts' Business"?'

'Has he?'

But Narcissa wasn't listening. She was instead heading towards the enormous, carved marble fireplace opposite the windows. 'Malfoy Manor!' The fire flared green and she was gone. Grimacing, Lucius followed.

He found Narcissa in his study gong through the books. It didn't take her long to reach a conclusion. 'We're broke. In fact,' she checked back to the beginning of the book, 'we're broke.'

'Yes,' Lucius heard himself saying from a distance. 'I'm sorry. Why is Gandolf Goyle out cold on the floor?'

'Because McNair drank first. He's in the pale green guest room. Any idea what Weasley wants?'

'I suppose I could find out.'

 

In an otherwise empty room, William Weasley was struggling with chalk, several pieces of parchment and something apparently constructed of string and shaped, wooden blocks, all of which were attempting to escape. 'Mr. Weasley?'

'Mr Malfoy. Would you like to come through? Or would you prefer . . . ?' A tea service slid past like a floral row of ducks.

'If you wouldn't mind coming to the Manor?'

Lucius withdrew from the flue and, moments later was joined by the young Curse Breaker. 'This way.' Lucius led him into the large reception room opposite. 'Hello again, Mr. Weasley,' said Narcissa.

'Ah, Hello.' Weasley looked uncomfortable.

'Just say it,' advised Lucius.

'Right. Well. On checking Madame Lestrange's vault, Gringotts discovered that she was in breach of contract regarding the contents. A fine has been levied, part of which accrues to you for information received.' An envelope was thrust into Lucius hands. 'You might want to get that transferred to your own vault as quickly as possible.'

Lucius froze, feeling as though his spine were boiling, entirely horrified. _Gringotts' employee or not, there was no way he should have found out . . ._ 'Why are you telling me this?' he asked,

Weasley grinned. 'Because my family owes you and because banking is Gringotts' _other_ business.'

So the Cursebreaker didn't mind scuppering their schemes. _Unexpected._ Lucius opened the envelope, glanced over the enclosed missive and and noted the numbers near the bottom of the page. 'No you don't,' he found himself saying automatically. 'Your sister would never have been endangered if Hogwarts were . . . .' He blinked and checked the numbers again.

'One tenth the value of the vault's contents.'

'I see. And the item?'

'Confiscated.' Weasley grinned. 'Three down. Would you happen to have any ideas regarding the others?'

Lucius considered. 'The curse on the Dark Arts position would suggest that there is something in the school.'

'That was my own thought. Incidentally, Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you.'

'Indeed.' Lucius handed the parchment to his wife Thank you, Mr. Weasley. '

'My pleasure. Since you probably want to attend to that immediately, you'll excuse me?' A courteous bow and he was gone.

Narcissa's eyebrows rose as she read. 'We're not broke. Now that is a Weasley I could like. I'll deal with it, shall I?'

'Please.'

Narcissa came back before reaching the flue. ' _Money_ is why I couldn't remodel the Keep?'

'Yes. The Dark Lord took . . .'

'Let’s not speak of him.' Pulling his head down, she kissed his brow.

'We have to.'

'Then you should attend to our guests. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

 

'Your wife.' said Gandolf Goyle, 'tried to poison me.'

'Actually, I believe it was a cleansing draught.'

Gandolf looked at him. 'I warned you about that woman. Not that the whole family isn't a bit high strung.'

Lucius shrugged. 'Can _I_ offer you a drink?

'No. What's going on Lucius?'

Without mentioning the basilisk or the word horcrux, he explained.

'Topiary!' muttered Gandolph, finally. 'Bloody . . . I think I might take you up on that drink now.'

'Brandy?'

'Firewhisky. A large one. So. Now you're siding with Dumbledore?'

Lucius proffered the half full glass. 'If he is wise, Dumbledore will side with me.'

The drink was downed in one. 'What about McNair?

Lucius couldn't quite repress a shudder. 'I think he might have to remain our guest for a while yet.'

'Ha! She fed _you_ some.'

'She did.'

'Think I'll go before she gets back. You take care of yourself, Lucius.'

As the green fire of Goyle's departure died away, Narcissa emerged from the shadows. 'All done. I had the feeling that the goblins were a little disappointed,' she said.

'Excellent.'

'I think,' said Narcissa, 'that you and I should have a little chat.'

He told her everything. When he had finished, his wife appeared thoughtful. 'There were rumours about Seer blood in the Malfoy line.'

'Not since Marie-Suzanne de Malfoy. And she wasn't in the direct line.'

'There was, of course, your grandfather's infamous luck at cards.'

 _Source of the recent Malfoy fortune,_ thought Lucius. 'I don't think that had anything to do with Divination,' he said

'It would seem,' she mused 'that we have quite the opportunity. 'Although . . . It might better if you were to remain here for now. I'll see if I can't find Andromeda. Find out what's happening.'

'Promise to be careful.'

Her smile was like sunshine. 'Of course.'

A bath and a meal had Lucius feeling considerably better than he had for a while. That and the fact that he was almost as well off as he'd been when he'd first inherited, before Riddle had properly got his hook in.

If he'd received one tenth, then it was surprising how much Bellatrix had actually had in her vault. Lucius sat up sharply. _Voldemort's money._ No chance then of _him_ not noticing his loss. _He_ would want access in fairly short order should he manage to reincarnate himself. Lucius was just settling down to plot when he was interrupted by Dobby.

'Master?'

'Yes?'

'Aurors is wanting to talk to Master.'

'Show them in.

There were four of them, wand in hand, clearly hoping that Lucius would start something. 'Gentlemen, what can I do for you?'

'If you'll come with us, sir: the Minister would like a word.'

He gave them a pleasant smile 'Would you happen to know what this is about?'

'Couldn't say sir.'

 

This time he didn't have to wait to be admitted. 'Lucius.' Fudge got up to shake his hand and pull back the chair for him. 'Good to see you again.'

'How can I be of help to you Minister?'

Fudge sat down. 'Well, the thing is, there's some damn nonsense about Sirius Black being innocent.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Or at least, that he never received a proper trial.'

'I see.' Lucius sat down. 'But wouldn't that be the responsibility of the previous administration?' he suggested.

'You're forgetting that I was part of that administration.'

'Hardly something that needs to be mentioned. Bagnold's foul up. You're just putting things right. Schedule a trial, and in the meantime, stick him in Saint Mungo's.'

The Minster scowled. ''Unfortunately Black has got it into his head that I was personally responsible. ‘Raving about me having him locked up so I could steal his property. Quite mad, of course.'

 _So Fudge had decided to indulge in a little extortion, had he? And found Black not nearly as far gone as expected._ 'If he's insane, surely the place for him is in hospital?'

'The place for Black is Azkaban.'

'I fail to see what it is you think that I can do.'

'Really, Lucius? How about a statement from you regarding Black's sympathies?'

Now, the fool was pushing parchment and a quill towards him across the desk. _Clutching at straws._ Lucius sighed. 'To the best of my knowledge, Sirius Black never supported You-Know-Who. Quite the reverse as I recall.'

The feather crumpled in the Minister's fist. 'Should we be obliged to reopen the judicial process for Black, there is no telling where it might go.'

Lucius stood up. 'My best advice would be to have Black transferred to Saint Mungo's.' As he stepped out of the Minister's office, he found himself again surrounded.

'Sorry Lucius, but I feel that the best place for you right now is in protective custody,' said Fudge from behind him. 'Take his wand.' Lucius had no choice but to let it go. Fudge awarded him a particularly oily smile. 'Just until we can get this matter cleared up of course.'

In the corridor that led to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's holding cells, the Aurors stopped. The wizard who had taken Lucius' wand tossed it back at him and he too smiled. 'Give it your best shot.'

'I don't understand.'

'He _doesn't_ understand!'

 _Talk fast._ 'Sirius Black was one of yours. He never had a trial. That's an embarrassment to the Minister. Especially as he's innocent.'

_'Crucio!'_

When the pain had receded sufficiently Lucius found himself on the floor. 'You didn't really think anyone bought that shit about _"Imperius"_ did you, Malfoy?'

'Black was an Auror. One of your own.' But the man was no longer paying attention. He'd turned to face behind him, listening intently. The red spell caught him anyway just before another stunner hit Lucius.

 

He became conscious of a foul odour, then that he was lying on something hard and lumpy from which he was unable to rise. Lucius opened his eyes. He appeared to be in a holding cell at the Ministry. The door was open but that didn't help because he was quite firmly stuck to the bunk. Someone had also gone to the trouble of making him invisible and inaudible.

He was not without company though. In the cell opposite a filthy wreck of a man was snoring peacefully.

_Sirius Black._

Footsteps brought a single Auror into view. Not one of those who had attacked him. The guard watched Black for a few moments before retreating, showing no awareness of Lucius' presence. _Interesting,_ thought Lucius. It looked as though he had, again, been stashed out of the way.

Sirius continued to snore. Lucius began to itch. He was starting to suspect that perhaps he wasn't quite as alone on the bunk as he might have liked. He could move a little within his clothes but they were attached to the mattress and the mattress was stuck to the bunk. If he'd been dressed the way Black was, getting free wouldn't have been a problem, but all of Lucius' things were of the finest quality.

He wriggled.

Cursing silently, he wriggled some more.

Finally, hearing the cell block door open, he stopped and listened. 'I need to check your wand,' a female voice was saying. 'It won't take a moment.'

 _Wizards are idiots,_ thought Lucius.

Sure enough, a moment later came: _'Imperio!'_ He couldn't make out her orders but he heard the block door open again and close. A woman in pink came and, without fuss, opened the cell door opposite. 'Goodbye Mr. Black,' she said, and left.

 _Umbridge,_ He had a very bad feeling about this even before the temperature began to drop. In his cell, Sirius Black awoke, turned into a dog and scurried under the bunk. Moments later, the Dementor hove into view. The victim for whom it was intended being absent as far as it was concerned, that just left Lucius.

Twisting and contorting, he tried desperately to escape and failed, nose and fingers tingling as the cold intensified. Bony hands pressing down upon Lucius' shoulders, the foul thing bent over him and he wished that he still felt as though he were dreaming. Helplessly, he closed his eyes.

A loud clanging, and the icy pressure on his shoulders had gone. He discovered the Dementor wrestling with what he first took for a silvery, floor length beard. He found that he could sit up and watched as the dark creature staggered backwards, bouncing off walls and doors, trying and failing to get a grip of something that twisted around and started shredding its hands with four rapidly paddling paws. _A Patronus?:_ an aggressively corporeal one. As the Dementor collapsed across the bunk opposite, the dog scuttled, nails scraping franticly, from underneath and through the doors into Lucius cell to take refuge beneath him.

Shivering, Lucius took his time getting to his feet as the Dementor continued hairily to flap and flail, finally succeeding in prying its assailant away from its throat and throwing it off. The Patronus, a large fox, skipped brightly against the wall, shaking its head, dark material falling away from its shining jaws, and sprang back to the attack. As it did its best to excavate the Dementor's innards, Lucius found his wand where he'd been lying. He bent down. Black fur eyed him warily from the shadow under the bunk.

'Hello Sirius. Or should that be "Padfoot".' Lucius sank down beside the dog. 'In case they haven't told you yet, we found a rat. Pettigrew's dead.' A particularly loud clanging caused the eyes to switch their attention to the struggle going on outside the cell. 'Black,' he tried again, ‘we found Pettigrew.'

The dog became a man. 'Peter's dead?' he whispered.

'He was hiding out as the Weasley children's pet. At Hogwarts. Actually sharing a room with Harry Potter. Turned into a rat and tried to run. Forgot about McGonagall.'

'She caught him ?'

'Terminally.'

Sirius coughed and then couldn't stop coughing. Lucius conjured a glass and gave him water. Coughing turned into crying. 'We're going to get you out of here,' said Lucius, gripping the animagus' shoulder. 'You need to hold it together for just a bit longer.'

'We?' wheezed Sirius. 'Who's we?'

'Andromeda. That mad bastard . . . ' _Speak of the devil._

'Malfoy. Can't you stay put for five bloody minutes?' demanded Moody stumping in ahead of a trio of Healers and Kingsly Shacklebolt. Tail still thumping, the silver fox faded. What was left of the Dementor fled.

Moody looked at Lucius askance.

'That toad Umbridge tried to set it on Black.'

'And the Patronus?'

'No idea. I opened my eyes and there it was.'

'There's no one else here, Malfoy.'

'Want to tell you what happened.' Black's voice came hoarsely from under the bunk. 'The rat . . . Pettigrew, the rat . . . he did it. He told him. Never betray James. Not me. Never.'

'What about the explosion that killed all those Muggles?' enquired Shacklebolt.

'Peter. Must've got a gas line. Peter did it.'

From down on their knees, the healers had been running tests. 'Try " _Veritaserum"_ right now and you'll kill him,' said one. 'Mr. Black, we're taking you to Saint Mungo's. You'll have a guard but they'll be there to protect _you._ Do you understand?'

When Black had been lured out, stretchered and borne away still muttering his innocence, Lucius found himself alone with the small, evil grin on the battered countenance of Alastair Moody. 'Had a falling out with Fudge, Malfoy?'

''He's been bleeding me for years. I refused to give him any more. When I wouldn't let him coerce me into falsely incriminating Black he must have decided that I'd be of more use to him dead.'

'Bleeding you?'

'Let me tell you about it.'

 

Lucius faced the hastily convened Wizenganot. Fudge leant forward. 'Mr. Malfoy, we'd like you to confirm that Sirius Black was a willing servant of You-Know-Who.'

'Objection,' said Amelia Bones.

'To my knowledge, Sirius Black never supported You-Know-Who. Quite the reverse, in fact,' volunteered Lucius.

'I believe that it would be useful to determine if Mr. Malfoy is able to repeat that under _'Veritaserum,'_ Umbridge suggested sweetly.

'Agreed,' said Bones.

Fudge looked furious and then glum.

Lucius decided that his best option would be to divert attention from himself. As quickly as possible.

'To my knowledge, Sirius Black never supported You-Know-Who. Quite the reverse, ' he repeated once it had been ascertained that the potion had taken effect.

Umbridge leant forward. 'You claim that your support of You-Know-Who was achieved through the use of _"Imperius"._ Is that true?'

'Yes,' said Lucius. 'You-Know-Who used _"Imperius"_ in order to gain control of myself and my resources and I don't know how many others.' He waited until the noise had been forced down. 'You, Madam Umbridge, set a Dementor on Sirius Black in an attempt to avoid embarrassment to Minister Fudge, Imperiusing an Aurur to gain access.'

'That is a lie!'

'I believe that it would be useful to determine if Madam Umbridge is able to repeat that under _'Veritaserum,'_ said Lucius. 'I also offer an unbreakable vow to tell the truth in this matter.'

A moment of silence preceded uproar.

 

It was in the throes of being a glorious evening. An extremely pleasant time for a stroll through the grounds of his old school. Hogwarts had rarely appeared so beautiful.

Dumbledore, he’d been told, wanted to speak with him and Lucius was happy to oblige. Of course it might take the old wizard a while to extricate himself from the near riot that Lucius had provoked at the Wizengamot.

Self congratulation aside, he needed time for a chat with his son. He loved Draco dearly but, right now, he had a charm offensive to mount and the boy could not be allowed to threaten it.

He awoke to find his wrists secured to a bench in the Ravenclaw Quiddich Team Changing Room.

'Hello,' said Lockhart.

Lucius considered 'Witch Weekly's' 'Most Charming Smile'. While he thought the black was probably an improvement on the pastels, Lucius personally would not have recommended padded silk satin and chamoise.

'The cuffs you are wearing will punish you for lying and any attempt to escape,' said Lockhart.

 _Best encourage a few explanations then._ 'How did you get the drop on me?' he asked, concentrating on feeling the net of spells that ran between the cuffs looking for a weak point.

The smirk became more evident. 'I'm afraid I can't be giving away all my secrets, Mr. Malfoy. You don't mind if I call you Lucius?''

'You mean you don't intend to obliviate me?'

Lockhart huffed and sat down on the bench opposite. Lucius ignored him. Tess,' said Lockhart, conversationally. An elf appeared beside him. 'Mr. Malfoy is being difficult.' Tess glanced sideways at Lucius. She was neatly dressed in a starched, black, maid's outfit complete with white apron and was carrying a feather duster. 'Be so good as to demonstrate.'

Looking miserable, Tess did as she was told. Where the feathers brushed his arm it felt like " _cruciatus"_. Automatically, Lucius tried to curl up and the cuffs added their own quota of pain. 'Enough!' He struggled to regain his breath.

'Just wait for now,' Lockhart told the elf. 'Who stunned me?'

'Snape. Where did you get the cuffs?' Having had a few moments to examine the magic, Lucius thought he could break them.

'A gift from an admirer. A terribly plain woman, but useful. Now suppose you tell me what happened after I was stunned.'

'We found the missing child.'

'Well, of course you did. Stop delaying. Tess gets dreadfully upset when she has to hurt people.'

Lucius talked and kept on talking, trying not to say too much while he worked on the cuffs.

'So there wasn't actually a monster?' Lockhart sounded disappointed.

 _Beatrix is no monster._ 'Apart from yourself, no.'

'Tess.' Even bracing himself, Lucius couldn't avoid the additional pain from the cuffs. 'What happened next?

Lucius explained about Pettigrew.

‘Unfortunate, but just too many people,' mused Lockhart. 'Right. 'I think that you will remember that it was I who led you into the chamber and I who killed the book while you panicked. You're ashamed of that and don't like to think about it. While you and Snape escaped with the children, I remained in the chamber to hunt down the monster. Obviously scaring it away. Lots of people have seen Griffindor tower. The Chamber of Secrets will take me to a whole new level. I'm sure that Harry won't mind opening it again for his rescuer.'

Lockhart had raised his wand and Lucius was desperately attacking the cuffs when his vision was blocked by something shiny that descended and struck his knees before falling to roll, ringing on the ground. He looked down to discover that it was a large silver salver and Lockhart was slumping, face down, onto the floor. _Reflected obliviation,_ thought Lucius. The salver had to have been . . .'Dobby!' but, for once, the elf failed to appear. On the other hand, there was no sign of Tess. Again he set to, trying to unlock the cuffs.

He'd blocked the punishment element and thought he'd found a way of opening them when Lockhart began picking himself up off the floor, rubbing at his face.

'What happened?'

''Quick!' urged Lucius. 'Release me before he gets back.'

‘Who gets . . .?’

‘Snape.’

'Professor Snape?'

'He's fed you a potion that's damaging your memory. If you don't get the antidote soon you'll forget everything you ever knew.'

'Why would he . . . ?'

''He hates you. He's jealous. He was going through your things when you challenged him. Quickly now!'

'Tess!' said Lockhart. When the elf didn't arrive, Lockhart hastened to release Lucius who wasted no time in stunning and cuffing him. Then he destroyed the duster. There was a slow hand clap from the door.

'He hates you,' said Snape. 'He's jealous.'

'And you aren't?' said Lucius. 'That smile, that incredible hair. How did you know I was here?'

'Your elf.' Dobby appeared from behind the Potions Master looking considerably the worse for wear. 'Tess is being taken care of by our elves.'

Lucius stared at Dobby who blinked and rocked from foot to foot before bending down to pick up the salver. Quite vividly he could _remember_ himself being attacked by this same elf; an elf that supported the Boy-Who-Lived and was a dangerous loose end. Even if the creature had just rescued him, Potter could not be allowed to discover its connection to the Malfoys. 'Go home now and wait for me there,' he told it. Dobby popped away.

Lucius smiled. 'Severus, have you a sickle on you?'

'I've a knife.'

'No. Not a blade. Money.' Snape dug a hand into his pocket looking dubious. 'It is customary to pay for house elves in silver.'

 _'_ Why would you want another deranged elf?

'Not for me,' said Lucius. _Tess and Narcissa in the same house? The mind boggles._ _"Enervate!"_.

Lockhart spluttered and, with a sharp yelp, discovered the reactivated cuffs. He kept still as best he could. Mutinously he gazed up at Lucius. 'What do you want?'

'It was your elf Tess who captured me?'

'Yes.'

'I suppose she does all your dirty work?'

'Yes.'

'You're going to sell her to Professor Snape.'

'What? No! She belonged to my mother.'

'Really? What, do you think is the value of a dead house elf?' Lockhart paled but said nothing. 'When you are taken to Azkaban for torture and false imprisonment, what do you think will happen to her?'

'I don't need a house elf,' protested Snape.

Lockhart looked at him. 'You do,' he said. He turned to Lucius. 'Fine. I'll buy him an elf.'

'My intention is to deprive you of that one. You will find some other way of making a living.'

Lockhart looked stubborn but knew that he was in no position to argue. 'If he promises to look after her and you both promise that you won't say anything, then I'll sell her.'

 _After all, he could always buy himself another elf._ Some people were too obvious. 'Agreed,' said Lucius. 'Severus, you won't be at Hogwarts forever and I'd like to think someone was taking care of you. Give him the money.'

Reluctantly, Snape extracted a silver coin from his pocket. Lucius uncuffed Lockhart. 'In full and final payment for the house elf Tess,' said Snape.

'In full and final payment for Tess,' grumped Lockhart, as he accepted the coin and slid it into a small coin-purse.

'You don't need to steal pieces of other peoples lives for ideas,' Lucius snarled. 'Try a muggle bookshop. Consider yourself warned,' he added, striding out of the changing room to breathe deep of the evening air.

'A muggle bookshop?' enquired Snape.

Lucius glared. He was wondering himself where that had come from. 'Is Dumbledore back yet?'

'Let's find out, shall we?' Snape pulled the Marauders' map out of his pocket. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Lucius looked at him. 'Pinched it.' He wandered off to stand where the late sunlight could illuminate the map.

As Lockhart tried to sneak past, Lucius confunded him. 'The Forbidden Forest holds no danger for as capable a wizard as yourself,' he suggested, quietly so that Severus wouldn't hear, 'and there are so many interesting things in there for you to write about.' Lockhart turned towards the forest looking thoughtful. _"Obliviate!"_

'Dumbledore, Hagrid and young Potter are all heading towards Myrtle's bathroom,' said Snape. 'And we've just acquired new roosters.' Irritation crossed the Potions Master's face. 'He would, wouldn't he?'

Quickly, Snape liberated a pair of brooms and they took off toward the castle.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having problems with Adventures with Aurors. If I can post this without breaking my computer, I'll try again.


End file.
